


The Mina to My Lucy

by ViktoriaZsasz



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Band Fic, Bullying, Dracula Influence/References, F/M, Gen, Kinky, Platonic BDSM, Touring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 03:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10527834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViktoriaZsasz/pseuds/ViktoriaZsasz
Summary: Ainslie doesn't have a shitty life, not really. She's 18, graduating with high grades, and doesn't know what she wants to do with her life; typical. She just wishes for simple things to change: like how despondent her parents are, or maybe the girls who like to rough her up after school. This whole falling-for-a-rockstar thing wasn't really supposed to happen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is the first fic I've ever attempted to post. It's not one of my best, but the others aren't quite publishing-ready yet. So... Enjoy?

"Someone has it worse" has been my mantra for years. My social life is shit, my family life nonexistant, and I don't have anyone who really cares. No friends that paid attention to me, no boyfriend who told me he loved me, no parents to give a shit anymore. But I could be worse off; I haven't been sexually assaulted or abused, not really, and I'm grateful for that. All I needed and had is my good grades, a small college fund, and an MP3 player.  
I had a waitressing job at a bar too, which provided the money I needed for anything I actually wanted. Which was what allowed me to buy a ticket for a Motionless in White concert in May. I didn't tell any of my “friends," the girls I sit with at lunch so I don't look like a loser; they'd all get super nice to me all of a sudden just so I would take them along, hence the one ticket. The kids who beat me up would probably rip the piece of paper up or even steal it so one of them could go. I wasn't about to let them ruin my one happy day, so I didn't tell anyone except my parents, making up a lie that I was meeting up with a friend and sleeping over their place. They shrugged it off with a “Okay, you're eighteen, go have fun” before handing me fifty bucks. Having parents who were ambiguous about everything had perks, I must say, though I would've felt better if they acted more worried about me going to a concert; me, their short muscle-less blonde daughter.  
The doors opened at six and it was their last show before they went on Vans Warped Tour in June. Since Warped didn't come to dear Charlotte, North Carolina until July 28th, I was eager to get to the venue early and be able to stay in a crowd of music and fun for as long as possible. I was a legal adult; I had no time restrictions, especially since I didn't have to go to school at all this week because I already finished my exams. I wasn't expected or needed back until the last week of school for all of the senior activities. My dad lent me his Toyota Corolla and I had enough money to pay for breakfast the next morning; screw hotels, I was going to sleep in the car. The backseat was unbelievably comfortable and I wasn't with anyone anyways.  
I parked the car a block away from the venue and started walking an hour and a half before the doors opened, enjoying the nightly chill that breezed across my skin. I wore basic clothes, nothing extravagent; a pair of men's baggy black Tripp pants with chains and knee-length pockets, a black fishnet shirt, and my Docs. My black satin bra was clearly visible underneath the net shirt, I didn't bother wearing anything over it so that I could wear whatever band T-shirt I bought that night.   
Makeup-wise, I'd spiced up typical club makeup. My eyeliner was thick and my lips were covered in fake stitches, which I'd extended along the line that went across my right cheek. My pale blond hair was tied back in as tight a ponytail as I could manage, since my hair was so thick it had broken elastics on occasion. All in all, I felt pretty for once.  
I was one of the first dozen people in line, thank God, but I could already see swarms of Goth and emo kids rushing in line behind me. The local concert venue had become a mecca for outcasts already, and it wasn't even dark outside. I glanced on either side of myself as I waited, bored out of my mind. On my right was a rarely used side street, on my left the parking lot. A long, intimidating bus with the members of MIW splashed across the side was parked directly in front of the back door. Seeing it made my nerves curl up into a ball; I'd never been to one of their concerts before. I'd always either been broke or had used my money on tickets for someone else who was playing, typically Marilyn Manson or Slipknot.  
I pulled out my MP3 player to listen to MIW while I waited, refreshing the lyrics in my mind so I could sing along. I had a really nice MP3 player, but I brought my old cheapie music player for concerts just in case it got stolen. “City Lights” came on and I smiled to myself. This was my song, the one I listened to whenever I needed to feel loved or wanted. It never failed me.  
One of my earbuds was popped out to hear anything going on around me and was quickly filled with compliments from kids passing by me to get in line. Most of them liked my makeup, some of them like my breasts, and a bunch of them were interested in sex. They couldn't see it in the lighting, but I was blushing madly. I just smiled and thanked them as the line grew so long it wrapped around to the entrance again.  
They started letting people in and the people in front of me were walking forward to get a patdown. I followed suit and held my arms out, allowing the woman working security to pat down my top and dig through all of my pockets. I apologized to her automatically, but she smiled and told me it was normal for her. I walked past her after I was done and handed my ticket to a bouncer, who ripped a stub off and handed it back. I smiled at him and veered left down the stairs where everyone who had ever been to a concert before headed; the Pit.  
Most of the crowd who came to this particular venue tended to go right up the stairs, go left at the bathrooms to a set of double door and down some stairs with the hope of walking into the crowd of people near the stage. Of course, they didn't get there; they ended up on the expansive balcony. For a lot of concerts I preferred the balcony to the stage; less crowding and it was a better place for pictures to be taken. But for a select few concerts, I went down to the Pit with all of the people who had gone to this place before, and I went just for the adrenaline rush of being so close to the band. The way the bass vibrated through me was different in the Pit as well, so that was a plus.   
The bands I braved the Pit for were always bands that were worth it; meaning MIW, Of Mice & Men, Asking Alexandria, and Marilyn Manson. I will admit, the bands were worth it because I had crushes on some of the members. For example, Cam Liddel from AA and Alan Ashby from OMAM. Don't even get me started on Ghost; that man was an androgynous icon, and absolutely beautiful. That was a man I'd do dirty things to.  
I bypassed the two bars that greeted me as soon as I entered the venue and made a beeline for the merch booth. Since I was one of the first people there, they weren't quite that crowded and I had a chance to get everything I wanted first thing. I held onto the rail that separated the pedestal from the ground and stood on the ledge, greeted by a slim boy who looked younger than me despite his many piercings and tattoos. He smiled at me and subtly checked me out before asking in an ever cheery voice, “What would you like, babe?”  
“The Free, Sick and Depraved hoodie and the Dead as Fuck T-shirt in size smalls, please,” I answered simply, adding a barely-there smile for his benefit. He hurried to fetch them for me. It was a sleeveless hoodie and a white T-shirt worth fifty-five dollars, but I didn't have any Motionless merchandise and I felt it was worth it.  
“That's thirty for you, and my number.” I gave him the money and smiled sweetly.  
“Not interested, kid.” I took the hoodie and walked away, pulling the shirt on and slipping the hoodie over it.  
The Pit was filling up quickly; so much for making it to the front. I stopped by the bar and sat on a stool, handing the bartender some cash in exchange for two slices of pizza and Mountain Dew as the first opening act came on. I rarely paid attention to them and wasn't about to cut through the crazy fans until the band I wanted to see was on. In the meantime, I decided to enjoy dinner.  
The two opening bands were decent, but nothing spectacular enough for me to download their music. I chatted up the bartender as I finished my food and took one last swig of Dew, relishing the bubbles tickling my throat before I slid off the stool and wandered through several crowded platforms where people were shouting for MIW to come out. I reached level ground right as the opening notes to “Reincarnate” sounded. Being as short as I was, I couldn't see almost at all.


End file.
